


Inner Lies

by iamavacado



Series: Some Sanders Sides Stories [3]
Category: Sanders Sides, Thomas Sanders
Genre: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders - Freeform, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders - Freeform, Deceit Sanders - Freeform, Deception, Emotional Hurt, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Gen, M/M, Prinxiety - Freeform, Rating: PG13, deceit as virgils inner voice, implied panic attack, lying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-10
Updated: 2018-04-10
Packaged: 2019-04-20 23:01:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,439
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14271420
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iamavacado/pseuds/iamavacado
Summary: It isn't the truth, but he can't control what he's saying.The prompt for this is "I don't love you anymore."





	Inner Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Please be warned and read the tags before you read this story!!! But for those who continue, I hope you enjoy.

The darkness seemed to dig its nails into his arms, dragging him back into the shadows where no one would be able to hear him cry for help. He reached out desperately, fingertips barely brushing the doorknob before he was yanked back by the hood of his jacket. With a strangled cry, he fell against the wall and slid down until he was hugging his knees, sobs wracking his body. He clamped his hands over his ears and tried to block out the whispers, but it was no use. They were so incredibly loud that they burrowed deep into his brain stem. The things they wanted him to do. No. The things _he_ wanted him to do.

It came as almost a coo. A melodic calling. “Virgil,” he sang. “Virgil~”

“Shut up!” Virgil yelled, hoping he was loud enough for someone to hear him, because he couldn't, for the life of him, bring himself to stand up and leave. “I'm not listening to you!”

Smoke swirled around him. “You have to listen to me Virgil.” A distant cackle echoed against the walls, rippling up and down Virgil's skin, riddling him with chills.

“I don't have to listen to you,” he affirmed, more to himself than anyone else. Someone had told him that once. On a night where everything got too loud to bear, and he felt he might suffocate himself with his own pillow just to block out the noise, and someone came and told him something that, really, was very simple. _You don't have to listen to those voices, Virgil. You can hear them. But, please, for me, don't listen._

How he wished that that same someone would come back to him now. 

A slow hissing permeated the air, and Virgil wrapped his arms around his knees and tried to fold himself into nothing. Maybe, if he became small enough, he could disappear into his dreams and wake up the next morning to the smell of coffee and the sound of Disney songs playing through the walls.

“You have to tell him,” the voice said.

“Shut up.” Virgil dared to open his eyes, and among the shadows, a small light shone from under his door.

“You have to tell him that you don't love him anymore.”

“No, I don't.” Maybe, if he channeled all his energy, he could make it. He could fling the door open and scream, and someone would come and catch him before he fell backwards into the voice's wretched arms.

“He needs to know.”

Slowly, Virgil took his hands off his ears. Though the voice seemed to double in volume, and the hissing grew more intense. Focus on the light, he told himself. Focus on getting to the light.

“Virgil, he deserves to know the truth.”

Virgil shook his head. He moved molecule by molecule, testing the strength of his legs as he tried to stand. They were shaky, but he pushed himself up using the wall as a support. The light. Focus on the light.

The voice dared to get louder. Though Virgil flinched, he did not fall. “Tell him that you hate him. He hates you.”

“No he doesn't.” Test the waters. He put one foot out there and put his weight on it. It didn't falter. The other. He was steady. Well, as steady as he could get.

“Tell him that someone that cowardly had no room to call himself a Prince.”

Virgil bit his tongue, just shaking his head, shaking the rushing thoughts out of his mind. All he had to do was get to the door. Once he got to the door, someone would find him.

“You don't love him.”

“I do.”

“You don't.”

Virgil's throat started to burn the way it did when he was trying to hold back tears. But he was crying freely, not holding anything back. “I...do…” the words came out as a harsh whisper, and he had to force them up. It was like something was trying to keep the words down.

“Virgil.” The voice was stern, angry now, distorted. “You know the truth.”

One step forward. Another. The light still slipped under the crack of the door, offering safety. He shook his head again, making noises of disagreement. He couldn't even speak anymore. Something had made it impossible.

There was a short silence. “What's the truth?” The voice was tinged with amusement.

Virgil bit his lip.

“Tell me the truth Virgil.”

He took another step forward. Before he even processed what he was saying, he was saying, “I don't love him.” It was completely untrue. It was the furthest from the truth, but what he wanted to say was stuck somewhere in his lungs with his baited breath. What he was saying were not his own thoughts. They were the voice’s.

The voice prompted more. “What's the truth.”

His voice came out pained. “I d-don’t...love...him.” I love him. So much.

There was a satisfied chuckle. “Good.”

Suddenly, control came back to his muscles, and he lunged forward away from the scratching claws behind him and grabbed the door knob. It felt like it was burning his skin, but he twisted it anyway and yanked the door open. Light flooded into his darkened room, and he closed his eyes against the sudden brightness.

When he opened them, Roman was standing in his doorway.

His eyes were widened, and his eyebrows were raised ever so slightly, hand held up in a loose fist as if he was just about to knock. When he saw the tear streaks down Virgil's face, he immediately started forward, but was pushed away. 

Virgil held his hands up at Roman. “Don't. You need to--” his voice was failing him. He couldn't control it. “Leave.” Fighting it caused more pain than any he had experienced before. Someone had lit a match inside his chest that was burning him from the inside out.

“What is wrong? What's going on?” asked Roman. He tried to peer into Virgil's room, but now Virgil was grabbing the door and trying to shove it closed, despite trying to tell himself not to.

The voice lulled right in his ear. “Tell him.”

“I don't--” Virgil clamped a hand over his mouth, feeling himself being pulled back into his room. Roman reached forward, grabbing his arm.

“What's hurting you?”

It felt like someone had pried his own hand off his mouth. He yelled, “You! You're hurting me!” He pulled away from Roman, hoping and praying the look in his eyes conveyed that what he was saying wasn't by choice.

Roman rubbed his finger. Virgil had scratched it. “Virgil…”

He tried to close the door. Opening it was a mistake. He should've stayed in his bed. He should've dealt with it like he always did. “Please go,” he begged. He sounded so choked up to the point of being unintelligible.

His voice was small, eager to help. “Why?”

The voice screamed in his ear. “TELL HIM!”

_“I don't love you anymore!”_

Roman stopped. Blinked. “W...what?”

Virgil blinked away tears, pleading for him to understand that this was not true. But he couldn't stop himself from saying it. It didn't even sound like him anymore. “I don't...love you. I never h-have.”

“Virgil,” he said, “this...is this true?” He reached forward again, but his hand was swatted away violently.

His voice rang to a loud metallic shrill. _“I don't love you. Anyone as c-cowardly as you has...no gall to...call yourself a prince! I hate you. I HATE you!”_

Roman looked hurt, but determined. He shook his head, not believing it. “This isn't you, is it?”

Oh, thank god.

Virgil stood there, sobbing, screaming that he hated Roman, and Roman was nothing, and he would be better off dead. Roman reached forward and grabbed Virgil's arm, and pulled him into the hallway, shutting his room door behind him.

He was bathed in the light of of the hallway, and his knees failed him. All his energy was gone and he collapsed to the floor, with Roman there to catch him and ease him to the ground. The voice was gone, the hissing was gone, the smoke was gone and he could actually breathe.

Roman had understood. His silent pleading had worked.

He curled up and rested his spinning head in Roman's lap, whispering that he was sorry. Roman reassured him that it was okay.

“What's say you sleep in my room tonight?” asked Roman.

Virgil looked up at him. “Yes please.” A pause. “I don't hate you.”

“I know.”

“I love you.”

Roman placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “I love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Leave yaself a comment and tell me what I can do better.


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